The desert resort of Palm Springs - nestling in the Coachella Valley of California - is not just a town, it is seen by some as a metaphor for how to live life. Its mere name evokes imagery of “desert modern” architecture, Slim Aarons pool parties, retro styling and endless vapid leisure. Hollywood found a sister location in this resort and was drawn to its shared values of celebrity, health, new wealth, and sex.
Palm Springs is the antithesis of the industrial “rust belt” of America andbecame a haven for those wanting to escape from their past or to enjoy a better life because of their past. It is no surprise perhaps that much of the Chicago mob money from the 1970s found its way down to Palm Springs.
My idea was to take a single frame encapsulating this hot and colourful utopia. But there was no room to be earnest, I simply wanted to be long of parody, colour and symbolism. Too much wealth, leisure time and shopping can bring vacuous traits. Like film makers before me, I homed in on 1950s styling as I sensed that this was the era that defined the post war growth of the resort. I had the Ferrari and the police cars and from the first day of scouting in Palm Springs, we knew our street location and we knew our timing of roughly one hour after sunrise. Our lead was the celebrated Alessandra Ambrosia - the super smart Brazilian model who can play any role ascribed to her. She “killed it” that morning and makes
the image. Who knows who is being arrested in the background, but it doesn’t look like it’s particularly interfering with her morning. This photograph is deliberately saturated in colour to evoke the gauzy, saccharine pleasures of the town. Is it really paradise or is it a parody of itself?